


May Day

by SlytherinSweetheart1



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: AU, F/M, Fake Marriage, Outer Space, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-03 15:14:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17880158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlytherinSweetheart1/pseuds/SlytherinSweetheart1
Summary: Dr Carter is the last person he has to Evacuate before he is off duty. To be off duty is to die. Jack has come to terms with this.Dr Carter has other ideas.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CoraClavia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoraClavia/gifts).



“Dr Carter! Dr Carter! Open up!” Jack continued to knock on the front door of the Victorian townhouse. There was no answer. Whoever Dr Carter was, he was either deaf or distracted. 

“Dr Carter, this is Colonel O’Neill from USAF, I am your rescue! Open up!” He continued to bang on the door, to no avail. Around him, the police sirens continued to blare. Jack shot one longing look at the truck parked haphazardly on Dr Carter’s perfectly manicured front lawn, and then took a step back.

He had no more than a couple of minutes to bring Dr Carter in - the rioting had already begun. Damn scientists, Jack thought, but there was nothing for it, he was going to have to kick the door in. 

The loud cracking noise of the door coming off its hinges, and the twang of pain that shot through Jack, were both loud and jarring in turn. “Dr Carter!” Jack bellowed, following the sound of music upstairs. The house was tidy, small, and light. Jack desperately searched for signs of what Dr Carter was going to be like and how to convince him to follow quietly and meekly behind Jack. There was no time to spare. 

The music grew louder as Jack took the stairs, two at a time, and burst through the first door on the small landing.

The flash of pain that struck him, was quickly followed by the loss of equilibrium, and then he was on the floor, wrestling with a wet, slippery... woman. 

“Ma’am, please. Stop. I don’t want to hurt you. Oh for crying out loud!” Jack gave up, heaved with his legs, and flipped them so that she was on the floor. The slight crack that he heard when face met floor was something that gave him no satisfaction, but to her credit, she did not cry out.

“Who are you, why are you in my house?” 

“Dr Carter?”

“Yes, what do you want with me?” She continued to squirm beneath him, and out of habit rather than need, Jack applied a little bit more pressure until she was perfectly trapped. 

At the back of his mind, he must have noticed that she was wet, her hair still slippery from some product, and she was very very naked. 

“Dr Carter, I am here to take you back to the base. You are being Evacuated.”

That stopped her wriggling.  

“Oh. Well maybe you should get off me first. Good god, you goons really need to get your shit in order.”

Jack did not linger, having established his position, he was on his feet in an instant. He offered her a hand, but she did not reach for it, instead, scrambling to cover her nakedness.

“I need two minutes. You can wait outside, please.”

“No Ma’am. My job is to ensure you are safely Evacuated. You know the protocol.” He turned his back to her, eyes and ears searching for signs of the Infected intruders.

The rustling of clothes told him that she was getting ready. Twenty seconds, thirty, and the sound of jeans struggling over wet skin followed. A T-shirt, then. Jack couldn’t help but wonder if she was forgoing a bra. That was both unexpected and arousing. He liked a woman who packed light and here they had to move quickly.

She shoved boots on her feet. Jack wondered if she knew even how to walk in those things, although they looked like well worn hiking boots, so perhaps she did. It was important not to judge women on what they looked like covered in soap and naked beneath you, Jack chided himself, amused.

She grabbed a pre-packed duffle bag. “I’m ready, sorry, what did you say your name was?”

“Colonel O’Neill, Ma’am. Please follow me. Stay just on my left side. Do you have any Training?”

“Please call me Sam. Yes. I have some Training.” She said wryly. Jack only nodded in response. You never know with scientists.

 “Ma’am, is there anyone with you? Husband? Children?”

 “No. Just me. My brother and his wife have been Evacuated in the first wave.” Lucky family. 

“Yes, Ma’am.” 

He heard her correction to “Sam”, but he was distracted at the bottom landing by the noises coming from her kitchen. He shushed her, herding her behind him, just to his left, so that he could protect her.

“Let’s go. Outside. Quick.”

She followed instructions, no last glances at the home she was leaving behind forever.

The outside light blinded him for a second, but the sound of the baseball bat swinging through the air was unmistakable. Jack braced, lifted both his arms up, and tackled the intruder. Baseball bats were the preferred weapon of the rioters, not the Infected.

Sam let out a startled gasp behind him, but Jack kneed the rioter several times, each blow landing at the other man’s unprotected abdomen.

“Leave us your sweet lady, man.” The man gasped, coughing up blood. Jack was a little bit surprised at the man’s dedication to rape and pillaging.

“If you get up, I will kill you. Stay down.” The man rolled, vomited, but thankfully staid put.

Dr Carter was already in the car, the duffle behind her, the recovered baseball bat in her hands. Jack joined her, turned the truck on, and peeled out of the street.

She didn’t make small talk, which was surprising to him. Scientist often jibbered at moments like this. She staid quiet, and when Jack finally glanced at her, he realised that her face was firm and steady. She was certainly an interesting person. Jack thought he would have loved to know her a little bit better, to have spent a little bit more time with her long limbs tangled with his, but life just took and took and took, and today was no different.

He finally had to break the silence. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to wash out your hair.”

She laughed, startled, and then reached to touch the soapy mess on her head.

“When is the Evacuation deadline?” She asked.

“1300 Ma’am” - “Sam!”

“Sam. We can’t be late for this one. There will be no further Evacuations.” He heard her gasp again, but she didn’t say anything for several minutes. “So many people. God.” 

“With all due respect, Ma’am, God has nothing to do with this. This is a scientific problem.”

“What do you have against scientists?” She shot back. 

“If you people hadn’t meddled...” but there was no bite to his comments. Outside the window, they could see homes on fire, abandoned cars. Whatever people were left in Colorado, they were not on this street. Bodies were heaped on pyres, the acrid smell of them pushing into the small cab of the car.

 

///

 

Jack was filled with relief when they finally arrived at the base. The check points were lined with heavy machinery, automated drones patrolling the perimeter.

He drove in, and then parked the car in the undercover garage allocated for VIP Evacuation. He tried to reach for Dr Carter’s bag, but was not surprised when she would have none of it. Damn nerds and their chip on the shoulder attitude. Although if she had expected him to carry her bag, he would have also thought that offensive. A part of him realised that he was just determined to be a grumpy old man.

Each checkpoint was easy. Dr Carter had the relevant ID, and Jack had the highest clearance. Men and women alike straightened at the sight of him, his reputation preceding them. “Sir!” 

The final checkpoint was different. The inside of the operation was no longer run by the military but by the Embassy Corporation. Jack’s credentials and clearance were no longer relevant. 

“My orders are to see her Evacuated. That means to the gate. I don’t care what your position is. Listen, I am not interested in your process. Oh for crying out loud!” The power shift between his people and hers was evident.

“Excuse me.” Sam cut in “But I require the Colonel to attend upon me. He is safeguarding my research.” Sam, almost ceremoniously, handed him her bag.” 

Under their scrutiny, Jack handed his weapons to the ticketing clerk. He felt undressed without them. Eventually, the Embassy guards returned, speaking softly to Dr Carter, and then allowed them to proceed. The room they entered was full of scientist, engineers, artists, all mingling and watching the large TV screens showing the emergency channel that ran 24/7. The CEOs and politicos had been Evacuated after the first waive, only those who had stayed behind to help save the Earth were now being rescued.Jack looked on in distaste, his face carefully blank. 

He would die today, but at least he would die with honour. The voice in the back of his head, that whispered that there was no honour in death, irreverent and unapologetic, made him internally grimace.

When her name was called, Jack took a second to really look at her. Dr Sam Carter was, even with soapy crusty hair and tired eyes, truly beautiful. Jack wanted to remember her as the last beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“All those people...” Sam whispered, glancing at the screens showing the rioting outside.

 “Listen, Dr Carter. Don’t argue with them. This is the last Evacuation. Everyone dies today. You have a job to do.”

She nodded, and then reached for his hand left hand. He felt her carefully slide her fingers through his, and catch on the space where his wedding ring would have been. Jack was a little surprised at the intimacy, she didn’t seem to really like him at all up to that point.

He opened his mouth to say goodbye. The Embassy offical chose that moment to call “Dr Samantha Carter?” again. 

“Dr and Mr Carter, here for Evacuation.” She said to the official. The rushing through Jack’s ears was the only thing that stopped him from questioning her.

“Two for Evac.” the man nodded, wrote something on his clipboard, and then continued to call out names.

Jack opened his mouth to speak, to question her, but her lips were on his. She tugged on his arm. “Don’t argue with me. This is the last Evacuation. Everyone dies today.” She whispered against his mouth, his own words thrown back at him.

Jack’s exhale against her lips was brief. They stood on the boarding ramp for the shuttle.

“Do you have a wife, children?” Sam whispered.

“No. No. An ex wife. She was in Chicago.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” she added, giving his hand a little squeeze, but the look in her eyes told Jack that she was a little relieved. Clearly she had not planned this little act of treason very well.

The walk up the ramp was efficient, stunned into silence as he was. The seat in the shuttle he chose was to the very edge. Sam sat next to him, duffle bag tucked into the carrier above them. The shuttle was packed, but Dr Carter was closed off, the look on her face filled with distaste. Whether it was at what she had done or at the lack of support for people who were being left to die, Jack was unsure.

Any scientist involved with the Embassy was pretty specific that only a small amount of the population could be Evacuated. Limited resources. The increased chance of the Infection, were cited as reasons for strict population control. Dr Carter didn’t seem to be the type, but it was hard to tell these days. 

When cities like Chicago fell, Jack had been devastated for Sara, and for humanity, but at least he knew their suffering was limited. Those left on Earth today would be left for the Infection to spread or for violence to swallow them whole. At best, one could hope to starve to death.

 

///

 The Shuttle ride was short, but jerky. Dr Carter, Sam, stared straight ahead. The processing occurred on the shuttle. They were given wrist bands. Jack glanced at his; Colonel Jonathan Jack O’Neill Carter, USAF. The Embassy Drone that printed it did not blink an eye (not that it had any eye lids). It was enough that he was on board. The real scrutiny would come later, Jack suspected.

There was a reason that falsification of relationships was considered treasonous by the Embassy. Their Evacuation procedures were sacred. There were stories of returned or punished Embassy staff who were considered to have committed treason when a legitimate familiar relationship, such as a marriage, turned sour. There was always political influence to be gained, and this was one of the ways that people removed their enemies.

He really hoped, fervently, that Dr Carter did not have enemies, and that none of his were on board.

When the docking lock onto the space ship occurred, they followed the green light towards their quarters. Behind Jack, the Drone, well, droned - endless instructions about the life on board. Seven months on the Embassy Ship, and then rehoming on one of the Embassy planets. “The Vice Ambassador for Marketing would love for you to join him for dinner, Dr Carter. I am told the invitation extends to your husband.” That was enough to startle Jack out of his reverie - what sort of clout did this woman have? 

He could see, from the way her back straightened, that perhaps this was not a matter of clout, but of danger. They were vulnerable, she was vulnerable because of him, and they had been on board less than a minute before some threat had presented itself. It figures, O’Neill, that the woman would be trouble.

His opinions about any possible political power she could have were firmly disproved when they were shown their rooms. Room. Jack had seen prison cells larger than this. The room was long, but very narrow. It featured one small double bed, from edge to edge of the room, with enough space for two people to become quite intimate while sleeping.

Draws lined the walls, shelves, storage everywhere of unpolished metal, reflecting the harsh white light. Jack felt like he was inside a commercial freezer.

The other end featured a capsule of light, that must be the bathroom and shower. In the middle, a loan table with two chairs.

Sam dropped her duffle on the bed. Jack unclipped his TAC Vest, devoid of weapons as it was. He had nothing, but the clothes on him. A yo-yo. Some knives. A few trinkets. His phone. He handed that to Sam.

She busied herself, clearly re-programming something with both their devices. Jack found commercial uniforms with Embassy logos on everything, including the underwear. Everything was unisex, generic, and black. 

He checked the room for danger, but none could be found. When Sam flicked the locking mechanism on their door, Jack could still feel the undercurrent of unease coming from her. Was she afraid of him?

“Jack, why don’t you take a shower?” She asked. O-K, that was weird. 

“Yea, sure, youbetcha.” The capsule was a small, neat, bathroom. A smaller capsule was the shower, grey semitransparent plastic curved like a pill at the top and bottom. He quickly undressed, and stepped into the shower. Whatever that woman was doing with his phone, it didn’t matter really. Their lives were forever linked now. He owed her everything. Every moment was on borrowed time. If she came in here and killed him, he had still had the benefit of one warm shower longer than he would have otherwise.

You sure are getting morbid, flyboy, he thought. The soap was industrial and harsh. Jack couldn’t help but be amused by the embassy logo etched into it. They really were full of themselves. The hot water cascaded down his back, easing the bruising and tension of months of hard work. 

When the shower door opened, Jack flinched backwards; the spray of water hit the good doctor straight in her eyes, and he could see her almost slip. It was instinct that had Jack reach for her arms, steadying her, bringing her closer to him in the tiny plastic capsule. When Jack moved to turn the water off, she stopped him with one hand.

With the other, she put her finger to her mouth, and then to her ear. They were being listened to. Jack widened his eyes, nodded, and then touched his eyelid with his hand?

Dr Carter shook her head. They were not being watched. This wasn’t usual Embassy work, Jack knew that for sure. He had been on loan to them from the USAF a dozen times, and they wasted no resources. Maybe this was about the Vice Ambassador that Sam seemed to be weary of? Jack would keep his head down and find out. His mission was not over if his Doctor was in danger.

Jack looked at her face, really looked at her, and nodded. She was dressed in underwear and a camisole, which were very now wet and plastered to her skin. They were chest to chest in the small capsule. Jack shifted until she was under the shower spray.

“Rinse your hair, love.” He instructed. “You were in such a rush this morning to wrestle me naked on the floor, that we didn’t get to finish our shower.”

“Or pack.” She added, and then threw her head back and moaned quietly. “Yes, like that. But maybe later, babe, I’m exhausted.”

Jack continued to smile. If she was his, she would have been mewling now, tired or not tired. Instead, he rinsed off briskly, and helped her out of the small capsule when it was clear that she was done. She looked like a tall, blond, drowned mouse. Her face was tense and worried. Jack handed her a towel, and then turned to face the other way and dry himself. He dressed efficiently. 

When the urge to peak at her finally overwhelmed him, he could see his Doctor shivering into the towel, tears streaming silently down her face.

“C’mere, sweetheart.” He folded her into his arms. His face burrowing into the crook of her neck. Her wet towel leaving wet patches on his new Embassy uniform.

“I miss them too, love. I know it’s hard.” Although he knew she wasn’t just crying for Earth.

Something weird was going on.

 

///


	2. Two

The Vice Ambassador for Marketing had sent a Drone to collect them for dinner. Jack followed Sam, who staid on his left, as Training protocol required her to. She took his hand again when they reached the private rooms of the Vice Ambassador. A part of Jack was nostalgic for a time when corporations were not more powerful than governments. He wondered if Dr Carter was old enough to remember. She seemed at least ten years his junior. 

The man who opened the door was younger than Jack, good looking and clean cut. “Vice Ambassador, a pleasure to see you again.” Sam said. Whatever apprehension there was, it was gone from her voice the moment the door opened.

“My lovely Sammy, you look beautiful as always. And my replacement, hello, I hear your name is Jack.”

“Jack Carter. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Vice Ambassador.” 

“Call me Hanson. Pleasure is all mine. I am surprised you let her call the shots for the name, but I guess you knew she had an Evac ticket. Come in.”

“It seemed practical.” Jack agreed, unsure what was going on here. Replacement? Was this a jilted lover?

“Did you want me to update you on my research, Jonas?” Sam asked, moving past the two of them to sit at the dining table.

The food that was served that night was some of the best Jack had tasted since the Infection had spread. Possibly even before then. He desperately missed Sara in that moment, even though they had been divorced for years. He missed home, and Earth. 

Dr Carter’s back was rim rod straight. She was speaking very precisely, tone and words calculated and careful. When Hanson moved to pick up one of her papers, Jack saw her flinch. The mood in the room from that moment shifted to menacing and dark rather than awkward.

The sexual undercurrent to all of Hanson’s behaviour towards Sam thickened. Jack pretended to be dull, asking questions that were obvious and wrong, simply to shift Hanson’s ire and attention. It worked. Even before dessert, Hanson threw his arms up in the air, looked at Sam and insisted “she remove the big oaf from his sight.”

He expected her to be angry at him, but when they returned to their room, she sagged in relief against his chest for a minute, before pushing off and moving away.

“Is there history between you?” Jack asked. There would be some sort of conversation about dinner expected. He now understood who was listening to them.

“Remember when we first met how I told you about a relationship that didn’t end well? While dad was still a General? That was Jonas.” Jack had now learnt several things about Sam, the history of her being a USAF kid, and the confirmation of Jonas, fleshed out the weight of his knowledge of her.

 “I’m sorry I upset your friend, babe.” He pulled a face at her. She beamed at him in return, her blue eyes lighting up.

“No, it’s not you. My research just isn’t commercial enough for him.” She stuck her tongue out at him. Jack grinned back.

He sat on the bed, played with the Yo-Yo, and watched the Doctor work. She focused on her papers, the little frown between her eyebrows furrowing deeper and deeper.

At 2300 Ship time, Jack nudged her. “You know the rule, love. Bed time.” She looked exasperated with him, but he tapped his ear. Sam grimaced, and then put her paperwork away.

They took turns with their nightly absolutions in the small capsule, and Jack took time to watch her in the half light. She was both fierce and proud, but he could see her exhaustion. She looked like she had been running on empty longer than he had.

By the time they were actually in bed, Jack was sure he was going to scream. The slow, even breathing she was trying to maintain was betrayed by the sadness on her face. He reached for her hand, entwining his fingers with hers.

“Good night beautiful, I love you.” He leaned over and kissed his cheek. Fuck you, Jonas, he thought.

“I love you too.” She repeated. She continued to cry silently, but she held onto his hand well into the night. Eventually, it was only the hum of the engines that Jack had for company. He staid aware and watched his Doctor sleep; they had entered the wolf’s den.

 

///

 

When he woke, he had thought, briefly, that Sara was still home. He was in bed, there was the weight and softness of a woman tucked into his arm. It took a few seconds before he could identify the smell of Sam Carter under the harsh chemical fragrance of the Embassy soap.

He nudged her with his nose. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

She looked at him, bleary eyed, confused. Her hair stood at all ends. She was downright adorable. He watched the weight of realisation settle in, and then watched her try on her brave face for the first time that day. He was getting to know her very well. He was also starting to crave her smiles.

Whatever he was expecting of this morning, the awkwardness, the confusion at having to live their lives just like this, was blown out of the water when she shifted and straddled his legs. If they were naked and making love, she would have been a good ten inches further up his body. Beyond that, there was no difference to the act and her current position. 

“Good morning.” She said, winked, and then started shuffling rhythmically against him. There was minimum contact between their bodies, most of the noise was the movement of her knees against the bedding. The sound was authentic enough. The rustling of sheets, the creaking of the bed, the small thump that Jack’s pillow made against the bed head.

She urged him with his eyes, and the sight of her made Jack genuinely groan. If she looked down, she would see the evidence of his interest. To avoid just that, Jack flipped them again. A second, two, a groan, and he had successfully faked his first orgasm. They broke apart slowly. Dr Carter was blushing fiercely when she scooted out of the bed. Jack took the opportunity of her embarrassment to adjust himself. What a start to a day filled with more lies than truth.

 

///

 

Communal life in the Ship was easy. Jack found work to do in the glass domed gardens, and Dr Carter spent most of her time in the business centre, typing away in front of a screen. He did, often, drag her out at meal times. It was easy to prepare sandwiches for them to eat beneath the large apple tree that was Jack’s favourite. When they were done, she would lean against his legs, and doze. Their relationship was perfectly curated. 

The watchful eye of the Vice Ambassador was never far from them. The forced confinement, instead of bringing them closer, made them feel like they were endlessly strangers.

When the VA approached Jack in the main passenger lounge one evening, Jack knew there was something to worry about.

“Is there something wrong with Sammy? She seems quite ...unsatisfied recently?” The implication that Jack was not man enough for her would have amused him if not for the danger that the interest posed.

“It’s the lettuce you have growing here. Not enough crunch.”

“If you are having trouble providing her variety in her greens, maybe I should see to it that she gets what she needs.” Jack wanted to punch the bastard. Disgusting. He needed to end the conversation before he said something that would get them both killed.

“I’ve been trying to get her to have more cake. That’ll fix it.” Jack threw flippantly over his shoulder. The VA seemed confused for a brief second, unsure if Jack had picked upon his veiled threat.

Jack found Dr Carter in the business centre, as usual.

“Let’s go for a walk, love.” He urged. The tightness of his fingers on hers was warning enough. She led him through the corridors to their rooms, and then sat at the edge of the bed.

Jack pulled a piece of paper out, and carefully wrote “Pretend. Sorry.” Dr Carter nodded.

“Your ex is asking after you again. I thought I said I don’t want you talking to him!” He barked.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re being quiet, and weird, and even he has noticed. Baiting me, telling me that you would be better off with him.” His voice was low and angry. Gently, he tapped the note again. 

“Why are you saying these things?” Her voice was small and tired. It surprised Jack, he thought she would give as good as she got in an argument. 

“I’m sick of you focusing on your research. I haven’t been myself since I met you. I gave up my life for you.”

He was surprised to see her crying. Frantically, Jack tapped the note again and again. She nodded, but made the small sniffling sound that women make when you are a genuine arsehole. Jack felt like scum. 

“I’m sorry, Jack. I’m sorry. You are right. I’ve been putting it off. Do you, do you want to, I mean, we can go back to trying for a baby.” She pleaded.

Jack’s eyes widened. What in the world? Was she insane? Why would she throw gasoline onto the fire? He silently shook his head. Sam smiled through her tears, and tapped the note he had written. ‘Pretend. Sorry.’

“Ok, ok. You need to work less.” He said grudgingly. This whole thing was confusing as hell, but she was the genius. He could play along.

“Of course I will, I’m sorry.” And then she kissed him. Properly kissed him. With tongue. This was their second kiss, the first she used to shut him up on Evac day. Her mouth was warm and dry. She tasted like coffee and tears. Jack did the sensible thing; he kissed her back. It was tempting to push her back onto the bed, and lose himself in the only thing that had made sense since the Infection started, but he knew something was seriously amiss here. When they broke apart Sam wrote “Wait” gently while she made a rustling sound of her T-shirt. He nodded. 

It took a little initiative to realise that he had to make sounds to cover what she was doing. A small screwdriver came out of her top, followed by a computer chip. Ahh, a thief and a genius, typical trouble.

A groan, some shuffling, and then Jack made a fuss about taking of his T-shirt and unbuckling his pants while she popped the case on his old Earth phone. She was sitting on the bed, he was now lying down. He nearly laughed when she started moaning, loudly, in what was obviously a fake orgasm. It was the only one she had faked, although Jack had so far had to fake a couple. So, she knew that her ex could tell if she was faking an orgasm, and for some reason she wanted him to think she was faking one now. Strange. Strange.

Jack continued to grunt, and then made a point of pretending to come just before she reached her crescendo. She smiled, eyes twinkling in mirth, and faked a disappointed sigh, and then a shuffle. Jack rolled over, and evened out his breathing. He could see Dr Carter indicating a count down with her fingers. At “one” he gave a loud snort and she pressed one of the buttons on the phone. The look on her face was pure relief.

“Jack. I’m sorry. We have a few minutes, maybe, before I have to turn the repeater off. I’m sorry. It’s best to hide and pretend to not know he is listening then to show that we know he is.”

“It’s ok, Dr Carter. I und—“ but she cut him off with a hand over his mouth.

“If you don’t call me Sam, I will scream.” He nodded, she moved her hand.

“Sam.”

“Yes.”

“I understand. Why are we having a baby?”

She laughed, and then she laughed again because she freely could. “Jonas hated children. He once told me he would be the only man to marry me knowing I couldn’t have them. He will love knowing that I tricked you.” 

“Ahh, a guilt fake orgasm, then?” Jack now understood.

“Exactly. Hopefully he will stop listening to our sex life. The problem is, I don’t know when he is listening. I have to react how he expects me to, or he will see through it. It’s really stressful. We can do this sometimes, to talk. It is safer than writing.” 

“It would be nice to talk. We’ve been having too much sex lately.” Jack was surprised to see her grin at that.

“Ok, a few more minutes. Any last words?”

“I hate that guy. What did you see in him?”

“Political marriage. How did we meet, Jack?”

“My car broke down. You rescued me, you genius woman you. Besides imminent danger of death and dismemberment and the ruin of our species, why are you so sad?” 

“It’s the consent issue. I keep having to, well, violate you for your safety. It bothers me that I have dragged you into this.”

“Do I look violated?” He then glanced at himself, naked except for his underwear, half hard, and then crossed his arms “Never mind, don’t answer that.” He sighed. “I appreciate your concern. I’m bad at words, but, you have my consent. In fact, feel free to grind on top of me when ever you want, ok.”  He thought maybe he had said the very wrong thing, because she looked concerned. 

“We may need to step up the acting.” She looked serious. Jack swallowed. This was going to get really awkward, fast.


	3. Three

Jack was right, it got really awkward, really fast. 

Dr Carter was certainly dedicated to the cause. Their very curated life continued being just so. They would fake having sex, or arguing, or any hundred different relationship-y things, and then she would turn on the repeater and give them some time to breathe. Once, she gave them a full hour in which Jack told her knock knock jokes for the entire time. It was their only reprieve. 

The first time she insisted they step up the acting, she nuzzled into Jack before bed in their third week on board. “I have my period.” She said, to which he nodded, because he was definitely aware that she was hungry and angry all the time these two days. She then, rolled over, nuzzled into him, and started kissing his neck. Jack staid still under her ministrations. She looked at him, and mouthed “touch yourself.” 

Jack thought perhaps he was hallucinating. 

“Let me make it up to you, Jack.” She cooed. It made him wonder what kind of arsehole the VM was that she felt she had to make up to a lover for having her period. In fact, why would her having her period stop them if they both felt amorous. Didn’t they own towels at the house of Hanson? He knew Sara preferred sex sometimes to ease the cramps. 

Jack groaned at the thought of masturbating with her so near him. She was stunning and it was difficult enough sharing such close quarters with her. 

“More.” She mouthed, inclining her head towards his crotch. He was half hard already. 

“Are you sure?” He whispered. He knew that it would be picked up on audio, but he refused to take advantage of the situation. 

She nodded. Then turned to give him privacy. 

Jack palmed himself through the cloth of his standard issue pants. He hoped the sound of fabric, and, oh god, the sound of skin on skin would be the same as if she was touching him. 

Her presence, the idea of her slim fingers closing over his length was endlessly arousing. He tried jerking himself off whilst still wearing his pants, but the movement was impossible. He was leaking precome, and when he finally pulled his shaft out of the standard issue boxers, the musk of it must have reached Dr Carter because she gasped loudly. Jack closed his eyes and imagined she was watching him. 

The idea that violence could come from this, that someone was listening, that they were virtually prisoners was really not doing it for him. At his age, he knew exactly what to think about and what to do, how to touch himself, to make this quick and efficient, and yet, it seemed to be taking longer than necessary. All he could think about is that he hoped that Dr Carter didn’t think he was prolonging this to make her suffer or as some macho show to prove to her that he could go all night. 

A minute, two, and she touched his shoulder gently. Jack opened his eyes, to see that she was staring determinately at his face. She smiled. He grinned back. This was ridiculous, Jack thought. 

In that moment, her smile, it was enough to banish the seriousness of the situation. The why didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was hard and naked and that she was there, and smiling at him. He continued to stroke himself, and she continued to watch his face, grinning, lying next to him and leaning on one elbow. 

When he spilled himself over his hand, it was with a quiet grunt and his eyes open. With an impish smile Dr Carter raised her own hand to her mouth, and licked it, in no uncertain terms telling him that if she had been the one touching him, she would have tasted and licked the evidence of his orgasm. 

In that moment, Jack vowed to kill Jonas Hanson. Jack wanted to find out how Samantha Carter had sex, not through mimicry for the sake of her psycho ex, but because she wanted to show him. 

“Now you.” Jack mouthed. 

“Period.” She mouthed back.

Damn. 


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I accept that this is really really ridiculous at this point. I am ok with that.

Jack had been married before, and he knew relationships took effort, but there was certainly more work to a fake marriage than a real one. The spying, the intrigue, the daily death threats. A part of him wondered if his relationship with Sara would have blossomed under this much effort, or if it would have ended worse than it did.

Dr Carter, Sam, was a force to be reckoned with. He was worried that when he approached her with the plan to find out what Jonas Hanson could be blackmailed with, she would balk at the risk and the danger. Instead, she nodded, turned on the repeater, and proceeded to describe how to do just that, but better.

They needed a diversion, but they disagreed as to what it should be. Sam offered to speak to Jonas somewhere public, cause a huge fuss, or, with a look of distaste on her face, suggested she lead him on.

Neither of them liked the idea at all. What he liked less than that was the idea that she would come with him on the mission. He imagined exactly how it would go. Hell, he had dreams about it:

_The VA’s rooms were locked, but Sam was able to bypass the mechanism, and then the computer codes. Jack felt a little useless, surprised that a background in special ops allowed itself to be overshadowed by a geek with a computer screen, but it was gentle internal teasing. He had learned to appreciate that Carter had honed her craft as much as he had._

_“How’s it going, Carter?” He peered over her shoulder. He had asked the question maybe a dozen times by now._

_“Almost done.” But he could hear the exasperation in her voice. She had spunk. He loved spunk._

_“Shit. Incoming.” He whispered. There was no time to hide. The lights were slowly coming on. The front doors of the VA’s quarters were opening. There was no time to waste._

_“Fuck me.” He exclaimed, looking around the neo modern office. There wasn’t even a pot plant. No weapons._

_“Brilliant.” She said. And then she was on her knees, and his pants were gone, and, oh God. Her mouth was on him._

_She was everywhere around him. He sat back in the chair. He was at her ex’s desk, and she was giving him a blow job. Ok. They were not going to get executed for treason, but they were going to die anyway._

_And if the VA didn’t kill them, he was sure she eventually would, because Samantha Carter moaned around his cock, sucking, her tongue flicking against the tip as she bobbed her head. Her blond hair spilling like silk, and he had to, just had to reach over and move it so that he could see her face. She looked up at him, blue eyes teasing. There was no panic in her face. This may be a necessity, but Jack liked knowing that he wasn’t hurting her by allowing it to continue._

_It was seconds, really, before the yell of outrage distracted him from her ministrations._

_“What the fuck are you doing?” Hanson bellowed._

_Jack’s cock fell out of her mouth with a little pop, and he realised that Sam was, eyes wide, faking surprise._

_“I didn’t say stop.” Jack insisted, irreverent, nudging Sam with the hand that was in her hair. She looked at him. Mirth in her eyes, and moved her head back to his cock. Oh. Jack was unsure what was more incredible, the feel of her mouth on him, or the look of confused rage on Hanson’s face._

_“I will have you flogged for this!” Hanson screamed, reaching for his communicator to summon what Jack suspected was an army of drones._

_“Do we still do floggings?” Jack snarked. He angled his hips a little towards Sam, giving her better access. She sunk deeper onto his cock, and the sight of it slipping into her mouth broke something primal in Jack._

_“Listen, Hanson, be a good lad and bugger off. I assume you wouldn’t want word of this getting out to the Shareholders.”_

_Hanson’s face went white. He flipped his phone shut._

_“I am going to sit here, and I am going to enjoy pushing my cock between her perfect lips, and when I spill myself down her throat I will know that she’s extra wet because I took her here, in your chair. Don’t come and threaten me again, son. Now run along, Daddy’s working.”_

_It took every iota of his strength to tap Sam on her shoulder and tell her that Jonas had left._

_“What a coward.” Jack exclaimed, tucking himself back into his pants. He was going to be hard forever, Jack thought. Sam’s mouth was red, swollen. He had been rougher with her than he usually would have, but it fit with the story they were giving Hanson._

_She reached over, patted him on the cheek. She was blushing fiercely. He thought he was probably red with embarrassment too._

_“Is this one for the record books?” She grinned._

_“We are not in Kansas, anymore. Strangest mission I’ve ever had.”_

_Something in her eyes darkened. Jack had the urge to explain that she was more than a mission to him, but he thought she probably wouldn’t want to hear that. Dr Carter was just trying to make the best of a really bad situation, least he could do was keep his feelings out of the mess._

 

If he woke up disoriented and confused some mornings, she never complained. Ship life, the stress and daily rituals were driving him slowly insane. 


	5. Five

The day Carter decided to schedule an argument was one of those confusing days Jack would have avoided if he could. They needed the reprieve to finish planning their heist on the VA’s computers. 

Her plan for a fight started easy enough. All Jack needed to do was flirt with one of the women in the common kitchen or lounge areas. He had been friendly with Laira for weeks, she was also a member of the gardening section and helped Jack organise the planting of crops. He didn’t think he would have quite the success with Laira that eventuated. Now, he had angered one woman he liked and possibly upset the one he lived with, and he felt terrible about hurting Laira’s feelings. 

He had suggested lunch, within Sam’s earshot, as planned. Intimate but casual. Something to be misunderstood and would hold up to the scrutiny of the AV or the Embassy. Laira had suggested he come to her bed and give her a child. The childbearing issue was something Sam was sensitive about, Jack had quickly learned. It has ended with Sam storming off, instead of the planned argument they had discussed. Jack had followed her back to their room. 

The situation had gotten worse. “How dare you?” She cried, slapping him. The force of the hit, stung, and Jack worried that he had somehow crossed the line, although if he thought about it, it was all her.

Jack opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. “I never want to hear your voice again. What you did was mortifying.”

O-K. Shit, fuck. He had clearly fucked up. Or she was psychotic. This made no sense. Still.

Sam smiled at him. “You fucking arsehole.”

Jack raised an eyebrow at her. She grinned. Then picked up her paperwork and went back to her research.

A few hours later, when the repeater was on and both of them were breathing a sigh of relief, Jack said “I. Am. So. Sorry.”

“No, it was all my fault. At least this way we can fake argue for a few weeks.”

“Oh goody. I felt we didn’t have enough of that.” He deadpanned.

“I feel like I am bi-polar or something. These fake mood swings are killing me. I am a terrible actress, it seems.”

“I didn’t want to be the one to say it, Carter.”

She threw her pen at him. Despite the awkwardness of what had happened, neither of them wanted to go out into the more common Ship areas. It was almost safe here, in their little cocoon.

Jack thought this entire thing was absurd.

“Hey, when this is all over. What do you want to do?” He asked. Her face turned serious.

“I want a lab.” She admitted.

“I would prefer a golden retriever, but if you insist.” His comment made her crestfallen, and then, she burst out giggling.

“No giggling, Carter. Seriously, you would work for the Embassy and the Corporations again?”

“No. I want my own laboratory, and my own research. Maybe like they had with the universities before.”

“Big dreams, Sam.”

“Yeah.”

“You?”

“I really want a golden retriever.” He wasn’t sure she understood that all he wanted was a simple life. She had already gone back to fiddling with the device. It was time for the repeater to turn back off. 

“We can do that too.” She added. 

“What’s the issue with you and children?” Jack asked. He half expected her to smack him again. 

Her smile was sad. “The Embassy doctors don’t know, it’s all in order, but nothing works.”

Jack didn’t know how to respond to her pain. To a dream that she would never achieve. A part of him felt sad too, and he was not ready to try and deschiper why. For the first time since it all begun, he was glad when the repeater was turned off and they went back to pretending in silence.


End file.
